Hot Chocolate for Nine
by whitetiger91
Summary: Ginny is insistent that she will make the family hot chocolate on Christmas morning. With Bill supervising her, what could possibly go wrong? For The Golden Snitch's Secret Santa.


**Hot Chocolate for Nine**

"But you promised! You said I could do it this year, I remember."

"Yes, Ginny dear, but perhaps it's best if I just do it. You go and sit in the living room, and when I'm done, we can open the presents."

"But Mum!"

Bill smiled as he listened to his sister and mother arguing as they came down the stairs. Ginny had been upset all morning, the smile she had worn earlier having quickly turned into a pout. It was Christmas Day, and usually Ginny would be bouncing around the house as though she had consumed too many Fizzing Whizbees, not moping about like Percy. He had been worried that she didn't like the present he had picked out for her—that it might not have been the right colour or something—or that perhaps she still hadn't adjusted to the fact that Charlie would be spending Christmas at school with his friends.

Now, however, he knew exactly what was bothering his little sister—and better yet, how he could fix it.

"No, Ginny, I think I should—"

"It's alright, Mum, I'll help her," he said. Winking at Ginny, he added, "We'll make the best hot chocolates yet, won't we, Gin?"

His mother gave him a grateful smile and turned back to his sister. "Alright, that might work. Just promise me that you will be careful, okay, Ginny? I don't want you burning yourself or anything."

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm always careful."

Molly copied the girl's stance and raised an eyebrow, causing Ginny to quickly place her arms by her side. Bill placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder and nudged her towards the kitchen before their mother could change her mind.

As soon as they were inside, Ginny shrugged his hand off. "I can do this by myself," she said, sticking her chin in the air. "And without magic, too."

Bill rolled his eyes and leant against the counter. For a seven-year-old, Ginny could be very stubborn and headstrong—even more so than Ron or Percy. Admitting that she needed help was not her strong suit, and more often than not it was someone else who had to pay the price for any mistakes made.

"I see…" he said. "So, what is the first thing you need to do?"

Ginny smiled. "Easy. I need to get the mugs out."

Bill nodded. He looked up at the cupboard above the stove where the mugs were usually kept and back at Ginny.

His sister followed his gaze, and her smile quickly disappeared. "Oh."

The cupboard was much too high for Ginny, and with the position of the stove, standing on a chair wasn't really an option. Usually, one of the taller members of the household would get the mugs down when they were needed, and the younger members—namely Ginny and Ron—would use the cups stored in a lower cupboard instead.

"Would you like me to get them down for you?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "No. I told you, I'm doing this all by myself."

"Alright, alright." Bill held his hands up, his own lips turned up in an amused smile.

The girl stared at the cupboard for a moment, tapping her foot. Every now and again, Bill could see her looking at him from the corner of her eyes. When she saw that he was watching her, she would huff and resume glaring at the cupboard.

It was five minutes or so before she smiled again. Darting across to the pantry, she pulled out an old mop, and returned to her position in front of the cupboard. She lifted the stick end of the mop up to the cupboard, hitting it against the door handles.

"Ginny, I don't think you should—"

"Shh. I need to concentrate."

Bill sighed and took out his wand, ready to repair any mugs that broke. Sure enough, as Ginny managed to bump open the doors, she knocked a mug to the ground.

"Oops."

"What's happening in there? What was that noise?" his mother called from the living room.

Ginny's face was flushed, and she turned to Bill with wide, blue eyes.

"I'll get it," he said. " Reparo ."

The shards of blue porcelain rattled against the kitchen floor as he trained his wand on them. One by one, they zoomed towards each other like they were magnets, gradually joining together to form their original mug design.

Bill leant down and scooped the mug up, holding it out to Ginny. "There you go, one 'Mother of the Year' mug at your service."

Ginny didn't smile as she accepted it and placed it on the counter. She took the mop with her to the pantry cupboard, allowing Bill to reach up and take out the remaining mugs needed.

"Would you like help with the next step?"

His sister shook her head again. In a much quieter voice, she said, "No thank you; I know what to do."

He was torn between lending her a hand and allowing her to continue by herself. She didn't seem to need too much help, though, already having found where Molly kept the cocoa (hidden from their father behind the flour and sugar). He stepped back and leant against the cupboard once more, watching her carefully.

As Ginny went about making the hot chocolates, however, it became harder and harder to remain just an observer. Rather than placing one or two teaspoons of the cocoa powder into the mugs, she put in five heaped teaspoons. She matched this with four teaspoons of sugar in each mug. When Bill had put his foot down and insisted he pour the hot water, Ginny would only allow him to pour in a tiny amount.

"Are they ready yet?" their mother had called out at one point. At that stage, around half an hour had passed, and Ginny had only just begun to pour the milk into each mug—and spill it all over the counter.

"Ok, now for the marshmallows," Ginny said, rubbing her hands together.

Strands of red hair had come loose from her pigtails and now fell into her face. She blew them away and focused on opening the packet of white marshmallows. They were a Muggle brand, and unlike the wizarding version, would not start singing when dropped into the hot—or rather, cold—liquid.

"It says to put three in one mug," Ginny said, squinting at the packaging.

Bill reached for the packet, but Ginny pulled it towards her chest. Even if Ginny could read, it was highly unlikely that the company would recommend placing three marshmallows into hot chocolate. For one thing, it would make any drink too sweet—especially the sugary concoction Ginny had brewed up—and would probably turn any customers off the treat permanently.

Still, she didn't seem to care and exerted all her energy to pull the bag open. With a loud 'Pop! ' the bag burst open, and marshmallows flew everywhere.

"Ginny…" Bill groaned, placing a hand on his forehead.

Ginny ignored him and bent down, picking up the marshmallows that had fallen on the kitchen floor. She wiped each one on her robes then placed them in the mugs.

"There, all sorted," she said, grinning.

Bill couldn't stand it any longer. Walking over to the mugs, he tried to take the marshmallows out. "Look, I think I should finish this now."

The girl pushed his hand away and manoeuvred her body in between him and the sink. Fixing a cold glare on him, she said, "Don't touch them!"

"It's not hygienic, Ginny. You can't let someone eat food that has touched the floor."

"There's nothing wrong with them! Besides, Mum cleans the floor every day, and this was the only packet left."

"It's not the same," Bill said. He tried to reach over his sister to take a mug, but she pushed his arm away again. "Ginny, c'mon."

"I don't need your help."

"Ginny—"

"Don't! You might end up ruini—oh no! You've ruined them! What did you do?" Ginny's eyes grew wide as she looked at the mugs of hot chocolate.

Bill stared at them, too. Rather than the smooth, white foam that the marshmallows should have created, the entire surface of each mug was caked with a solid, rubbery, light brown goo. When Ginny poked her finger in it, it bounced around the mug. Her lip began to tremble and as she turned back to look at him, he could see tears welling up in her eyes.

"It must have just been the temperature, Gin. Sometimes marshmallows will actually solidify—er, turn into that when it's too cold," he said.

Ginny looked back and forth from the hot chocolate to him. Bill braced himself for Ginny to blame him, or to yell, but she allowed her tears to fall instead.

"I-I thought I c-could do it—I want-wanted to do it m-myself," she said between hiccoughs. "I-I did-didn't…"

Bill's heart sank. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was seeing his baby sister cry. He stepped forward and circled his arms around her.

Rubbing her back, he said, "It's ok, it's not that bad, Gin."

Ginny cried into his chest, shaking her head. "I failed!"

"No, no, don't say that. You did a very good job for your first try."

"You're just saying that."

"No, it's true."

Ginny continued to sob. She didn't seem to want to believe him, and although she had called him out on the lie, he knew he couldn't allow her to think of herself as a failure. Looking around the kitchen, his eyes fell onto the mugs of hot chocolate and an idea formed.

"Gin, look at me. Go on, look."

His sister gave a shaky breath and looked at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and a small trail of snot sat under her nose. Bill reached into his pocket for a tissue and handed it to her. Then, pointing to the mugs, he smiled at her.

"Would I do this if I were lying?" he said, and before he could change his mind, he dipped his finger into the closest mug. Swirling it around underneath the lump of marshmallow, he pulled it back out. He raised his finger to his lips and licked it.

The drink felt even colder to his tongue, and as predicted, the sweetness of the mixture assaulted his taste buds. It was, quite frankly, the worst hot chocolate he had ever tasted.

Smacking his lips together, he winked at Ginny. "Mmm mmm mmmm. Amazing!"

Ginny blinked back a few more tears and sniffled. "Really?"

He nodded. "Absolutely."

After a few more sniffles, Ginny wiped the sleeve of her robes across her eyes. Then, after considering the hot chocolate for a moment, her lips began to twist into a smile.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes and lifted her head. "You know what? You're right. I did do a good job, didn't I? I'll go tell everyone they're ready."

Bill chuckled as she ran out of the kitchen to round up the rest of the Weasley clan. He made sure she was out of earshot before he turned to the hot chocolates and brought his wand out once more. Pointing it at the mugs, he waved it around to evaporate the liquid, removing the mess around the kitchen as well. With another wave of his wand, he heated the mugs up and added more milk, cocoa and a few marshmallows Ginny had not yet used—just one in each cup, this time. They melted into a milky pool, just in time for Ginny's return.

"See? I told you I could do it," she said.

Their mother was in tow, and when she saw that her kitchen had not been completely destroyed, she smiled. "Yes, dear, you did. You certainly did," she said. "Come on, let's go and open presents."

Ginny beamed and took a sip from the mug closest to her. Bill hid his grin as she downed half the contents of her mug. If she noticed that they weren't cold anymore, she didn't let on.

She seemed content now that she had been allowed to do her job, and with that knowledge, Bill picked up a mug for himself and followed the girls into the dining room.

* * *

 _ **A/N: This story was written for the lovely Sana'a (** **ofstarsandstuff** **) for The Golden Snitch's Secret Santa. I hope you like this take on young Ginny (and I hope she didn't seem too bratty or anything). Merry Christmas!**_

 _ **A massive thank you to the wonderful Ari (Arianna Waters) for** **beta'ing** **this story for me :)**_  
 _ **I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! Xx**_


End file.
